“Oh, don’t say that, my boy. They did a number on your mind, but you’ll get back to your old self and feel better again, in time.”
Tex’s patience was like a rubber band stretched to the point of snapping. He wanted to throw the old man across the room. But he was still unable to manipulate the matter required to make it happen. Dr. Randall’s words ‘my boy’ were like lemon juice on an open cut. Tex’s voice was low and seething, just short of a growl. “Do not call me that. I am not a ‘boy’. And I am not ‘yours’.”
Dr. Randall’s face fell and he flinched back. He looked down and fidgeted his hands. “I’m – I’m sorry. I meant no offense. I’ve been calling you that your whole life.”
“Perhaps, but that was before you ripped me away from my home with the Conexus. Before you stole me from my one chance for acceptance and true connection to my family.”
Dr. Randall’s eyes watered. He put a finger behind the lens of his glasses and wiped. “I apologize. I – I assumed I was helping you. I expected you wanted to be free of them. When we found you – well, it looked to our eyes like you were being tortured. I daresay it never occurred to me that you wanted to stay like that. I assumed, perhaps wrongly I guess, that you wanted to be Tex again.”
The conversation with Dr. Randall made his head hurt again. It sparked memories of his time with Dr. Randall and Erika that conflicted with his conscious thoughts. What Dr. Randall said was familiar. It seemed true yet wrong as well. The conflicting desires and memories made his head throb. His stomach was queasy, the room spinning.
Tex rubbed his temples. “Please leave me now. I must rest before Erika comes back to retrieve me.”
Dr. Randall did not leave. He stood by the bed, close enough that Tex’s nostrils were filled with the doctor’s pungent odor. It made his stomach churn even more.
Tex opened his eyes and made his face into the most menacing look he could muster. He spoke in a low hiss. “I said go.”
Dr. Randall reached out a long thin hand, his knuckles gnarled with age. He patted Tex’s leg through the thin hospital sheet. “Good-bye, Tex. Take care of yourself. I want you to know that –”
“Know what?” Tex was nearly at the point of striking the doctor if it would get the man to go away.
“I want you to know that I love you. I have always loved you. I always accepted you as perfect just the way you were. You say that I took you away from your home and family. I did not mean to. I thought I was bringing you home and that we would be a family.” Dr. Randall did not wait for a response. He shuffled out quickly and left Tex alone in the cool, dark space of his makeshift hospital room.
Dr. Randall’s words made Tex’s head ache even more. He forced himself to stop thinking about it. He lay back and rested as best he could. He breathed deeply and withdrew his attention from the world around him. He entered a trancelike state that allowed him to recharge his mind and body more quickly than mere sleep.
Sooner than he had hoped for, Erika returned. She opened a backpack and handed him clothes that she said she ‘pinched’ for him (whatever that meant). Everything was too large, but he was covered, which apparently was important to humans. She also handed him a black, knit cap.
“Black is slimming,” she said.
Tex cocked his head to the side.
She chuckled softly. “A joke, Tex. But the dark cap will hide your slightly pointy, definitely not human ears. And black will make your head look – smaller.”
Erika stepped around the screen to allow Tex to dress. When he was done, she came back and said, “Okay, first step to Operation Get the Hell Out of Here? Getting past the two stooges out there.” She gestured toward the door with her head.
“I presume that you speak of the guards.”
“You presume correctly. I don’t suppose you have enough strength yet to take them out?”
A memory flashed into Tex’s mind. When they first met, Erika had asked him to spare the life of a man who was attacking her then asked him to spare the lives of Sturgis’ soldiers. “No one deserves to die,” she’d said.
“Are you asking me to kill these men?”
“No, not if you can help it. Killing them will only leave a hot trail behind us, something we don’t need. Can you just knock ’em out? You know, like you did in Aphthartos.”
“I told you previously that I can no longer manipulate matter.”
Erika’s brows knitted together. She put her hand to her chin. “I’d hoped that was temporary. Okay, so much for plan A. There’s got to be a way to distract them. We need to get them out of the way long enough to sneak you out of here.”
She appeared to be talking to herself and did not wait for Tex to offer assistance. He would not have anyway. Though he was willing to leave this place with Erika, he considered himself a passenger more than a co-captain.
Erika left his tiny portable room. She opened drawers and banged cabinets. After a few minutes, she returned with a syringe and a small clear bottle in her hand.
“Morphine. After seeing how it knocked my mom out, I’m guessing it will put those guys in la-la land too. We’ll inject them one by one. I’ll go tell them you need help getting up to go to the bathroom. When he comes in to help you, you inject him. Okay?”
Tex offered no response.
Erika put her hand on her hip. She attempted to yell at him but without raising her voice. “Look, are you on board with this or not? ’Cause I need your help. I’m not going to risk my ass to save your bacon if you’re not willing to at the very least poke a needle into this guy.”
Her tone and attitude brought back another memory. They had been in Jack’s car, driving north toward Sedona. She had chastised Tex for reading her thoughts. Though she had seen what he was capable of, she stood up to him. She was not afraid of me then, and she is not afraid of me now. Maybe she should be.
“I will inject him.”
She handed Tex the syringe and bottle. “Good. Be ready.”
He drew morphine up into the syringe, got back into bed and covered himself. He held the needle in his right hand and waited.
Erika talked to the men outside. “I don’t know why he can’t get out of bed on his own, but he can’t and needs help.”
Two sets of footsteps. Two heartbeats, one beating very rapidly. The smell of tobacco and coffee and the faint odor of sour milk. Tex recognized that smell. It was a baby’s spit-up. A few of his caretakers at A.H.D.N.A. had smelled of it from time to time. The ones who had children, anyway.
“I’m not an orderly,” the guard said. He folded the screen back to allow for his large frame to fit beside the bed. He eyed Tex suspiciously.
Tex realized his error too late. He had forgotten to take off the cap. “My head was cold.”
The lie seemed to appease the man. “Whatever. Come on, then.”
Tex raised an arm up like a child asking to be picked up. “If you just lift me to the floor, I think I can stand on my own.”
The guard rolled his eyes but leaned down to lift Tex from the bed. As soon as the guard’s face was close to Tex’s chest, he swiftly plunged the needle into the man’s thigh and pressed down on the tiny plunger.
“Hey? What the …?”
The man stumbled backward and nearly knocked Erika over. She put her hands out to steady him, but he swatted her away. He reached for the folding screen and pulled it down with him as he fell to the floor. The aluminum frame of the screen clanked loudly on the tile. If the clatter wasn’t enough to get the attention of the other guard, then the man’s loud yell was. “Need help!”
Erika knelt beside the guard now lying on the floor and unsnapped his gun holster. The man feebly swatted at her, but he missed her hand and caught only air. His eyes were unfocused and glassy. She unburdened him of his handgun as his bleary eyes blinked slowly, trying to remain open.
“Not exactly as planned, but –”
Before she could finish her sentence, the second guard slammed open the door. He reached for his gun as he
entered, but Erika’s words stopped him.
“Hands in the air where I can see them.” She rose quickly and held the gun steady with both hands like it was second nature to her.
The guard put both hands in the air and stopped just inside the door. “Girl, you do not want to play this game. You’ve got no idea what you’re dealing with. Kill me, and you can kiss your sorry life good-bye. The Makers don’t waste time with due process crap.”
Tex had no explanation for the feelings that flooded through him. He needed to protect Erika though he did not understand why. He assumed it had to do with the memories that kept coming to him unbidden. Memories of his time with her before the Conexus.
Tex rose fully from the bed and pulled the cap from his head. The action had the desired effect. The man’s attention turned to him rather than Erika. The guard squinted his eyes, trying to take it all in in the dim light.
The man’s voice lost its bravado. “Stay there, you hear me? Don’t get one step closer.”
“Or you will do what?” Tex asked. His voice was calm, low and in complete control. In the time it had taken the man to ask the question, Tex closed the gap between them and pulled the man’s gun from his holster. By the time the man’s slow human mind could comprehend what had happened, Tex had the gun pointed at the man’s face.
It was the first time Tex had been able to use his preternatural speed since they left Aphthartos on the Conexus ship. His heart raced at the thrill of finding out that he could still do it.
While Erika held a gun like she had been born with one in her hand, the barbaric weapon was heavy and cumbersome in Tex’s small thin hand. His muscles were still weak, and despite his attempts to hold the gun steady, it quivered in his hand.
The guard noticed it too. He swiftly grabbed the gun out of Tex’s trembling hands.
Before Tex had the chance to attempt to regain possession of the gun, a shot was fired. The guard’s face wore a look of surprise as he looked down at his chest. He dropped the gun as his hand flew to his chest as though he could somehow stop the bleeding. He fell to his knees then toppled the rest of the way to the ground.
Erika still held the gun steady in both hands. Her face was stern and determined.
“I did not know that you were so adept at wielding a weapon or that you were willing to kill a human.” Her behavior was confusing to his already befuddled mind. When they’d first met, Erika had risked herself by requesting that he not take the lives of the soldiers in the desert. He was trained to be a killer. It had been difficult for him to imagine why she’d held such a high regard for life that she would risk herself to avoid killing.
Erika relaxed and lowered her arms but kept the gun in her right hand.
“Where did you learn this skill?” he asked.
“Long story. Maybe I’ll tell it to you on our trip. But we don’t have time right now. Won’t be long before someone comes to check out the racket.” She wiped her brow. “I made a hell of a mess out of this.”
She tucked the gun into the waistband at the back of her pants. She knelt by the man that she’d shot. She shut his eyelids with her fingers and closed her eyes. She looked as though she was praying for a few seconds. She picked his gun up off the ground and handed it to Tex.
“Why did you shoot him?”
“’Cause he was going to kill you.”
“How do you know that he was? You cannot read minds.”
“No, but I can read people. You scared the guy shitless. He was ready to pull the trigger if you moved one step closer.”
“He would not have shot me. I am sure that he was ordered not to kill me.”
“Yeah, probably. But orders don’t mean jack when your own ass is on the line and you’re so scared you pissed yourself.” She opened the door and peered out into the dark night. “You coming?”
Tex retrieved his hat from the bed. He stepped cautiously over the body to avoid the puddle of blood and followed Erika Holt into the cool desert night.
52
JACK
The elevator doors to the Croft penthouse closed, but the elevator didn’t move. Did Lizzy override the system? Jack feared she’d open the doors and finish them off as she had Robert. He wished he’d had the presence of mind to take a shot at her before the elevator closed.
Alecto stood beside Jack, stoic and still. After a few seconds he realized they weren’t moving because no one had pushed a button to tell the elevator which floor to go to. “Push the button marked B2,” he said to Alecto.
Anna stood in front of Jack, her back to him. Her shoulders shook with her silent sobs. He wanted to take her into his arms and stroke her hair and tell her it would be okay. But his hands were full. And he was filled with doubt that anything would ever be okay again.
Jack pushed the gun he carried into his waistband next to a canister of Zissnine. He couldn’t wait to get the poison far away from himself.
He reached his now free hand out to Anna and lightly touched her shoulder. At first her body tensed. But he squeezed her shoulder gently and kept his hand there to comfort her. Her shoulders relaxed a bit.
“We bought a van. I’ll put Thomas in the back and get him to a hospital. He’ll be okay.”
“No. He won’t,” Anna said.
“Don’t talk like that. I think the bullet went clean through. He needs blood, some stitches and …”
Anna turned to face him. Up close, Jack could see more clearly the damage Lizzy had done. Anna’s eyes were so swollen, purple and bloody that it hurt to look at her.
“We can’t go to a hospital, Jack. You know that.”
“I don’t know that. He needs help, Anna. And so do you.”
Anna shook her head. “We’re off grid, remember? And even more reason to keep out of sight now with her.” She cocked her head toward Alecto.
“I think you overestimate the reach of the Crofts.”
“You underestimate their reach.”
“We’ll get out of Manhattan. Go to a hospital in Brooklyn or maybe Queens.”
“They monitor everything. Lizzy’s probably already putting in calls. Soon our faces will be uploaded into a computer database on the FBI most-wanted list. We show up at a hospital or police station, they’ll take us into custody.”
The doors slid open. The parking garage smelled of exhaust fumes and cold air.
Anna stepped aside to let Jack out first. He led them to the van parked at the end of the second row. “Can you fish in Thomas’ pants for the keys?”
As Anna searched for the keys, a couple emerged from a silver Mercedes parked a few spaces down and across from the van. The couple stopped and stared at them. Alecto took a few steps in their direction and stared back.
Jack whispered at her under his breath. “Get over here. We’re trying not to draw attention.”
Anna found the keys and unlocked the back door of the van. Jack put Thomas down as gently as he could. His legs and back were relieved to have the weight off them.
Thomas’ face was as pale as printer paper. The dyed-black hair created a sharp contrast with his snow-white skin. He looked dead.
Jack put his fingers to Thomas’ neck. There was a weak pulse.
“Alecto, get into the back and pull him up into the van. Gently.”
She did as he asked without hesitation or argument.
“And stay in the back so you’re not seen,” Jack added. “At least until we can find some clothes and a way to cover your head.” An image of Alecto covered in a burka came to mind, but he quickly disregarded it. A head-to-toe covering might draw as much attention as her hugantic head and eyes. We’ll deal with a disguise for her later.
As Jack closed the van’s back doors, the curious couple approached them.
“Do you need help?” the man asked.
“No. We’re fine,” Jack said.
“He was asking her,” the woman said.
Anna had been standing behind Jack, her back to the couple. She turned and faced them. The woman visibly r
ecoiled from Anna and the man grimaced.
Anna mustered a semi-cheerful voice. “I don’t need help. Thank you. He’s taking me to the hospital.” She didn’t wait for them to press further. Anna slid herself into the front passenger seat, locked the door and buckled in.
Jack didn’t bother buckling. He slammed the door closed, turned the key and jammed the gearshift into reverse. The couple still stood by the space the van had been in and stared at the back end as they drove away.
Jack checked his side mirror. The man was staring intently at the van. “I think he’s memorizing the license plate number.”
“I’m sure he is,” Anna said. Her voice was low and tired.
Jack wound them up through the underground parking and eased into midday traffic. “I’m taking him to a hospital.”
“No,” Anna said. She unbuckled and teetered on unsteady legs as she slid past Jack to the back of the van. She knelt by Thomas and took his limp hand in hers.
“This isn’t up for debate, Anna. If we don’t get Thomas to a hospital, he’ll die.”
“I know.” Anna let out a long, slow sigh. “Just drive away from here.”
Jack knew how Anna felt about Thomas. There was no possibility that she actually wanted him to die. He knew they should lie low, but blending into the woodwork would have to wait until after they got Thomas out of the woods. “Dammit, Anna, we can’t just let him die. I’m not going to have that on my conscience too.”
Anna shook her head. “No, Jack. I beg you not to. You’ve got to understand this by now. If we go to a hospital or the police, he’ll die and we’ll die too. And Alecto will be back in Croft’s hands before sundown. Don’t you see?”
Jack looked at her in his rearview mirror. Silent tears ran down her face in a steady stream.
H.A.L.F.: The Makers Page 34
